


Born on a Monday

by MoonlightShines (Thatkillervibe)



Category: Stargirl (TV 2020)
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Gen, Grief, Group Chat Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Not Really Character Death, PTSD, Slow Burn, Text Messages
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:14:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25845634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatkillervibe/pseuds/MoonlightShines
Summary: Forget the door in the tunnels. That thing lives in hishead. Rick has to kill it.
Relationships: Beth Chapel & Courtney Whitmore & Yolanda Montez, Beth Chapel & Rick Tyler, Beth Chapel & Yolanda Montez & Rick Tyler & Courtney Whitmore, Beth Chapel/Rick Tyler, Rick Tyler & Pat Dugan
Comments: 48
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is a canon divergence that adds more time between the events of episodes 10 and 11.

_Solomon Grundy, born on a Monday,_

  
_Christened on a stark and stormy Tuesday,_

  
_Married on a grey and grisly Wednesday,_

  
_Took ill on a mild and mellow Thursday,_

  
_Grew worse on a bright and breezy Friday,_

  
_Died on a grey and glorious Saturday,_

  
_Buried on a baking, blistering Sunday._

  
_That was the **end** of Solomon Grundy._

~.~

There wasn’t much left to feel when the hour ran out. His adrenaline and surge of power fizzled out of his system the moment the tiny sand grains trickled to a stop. The swarming anger in his blood, nausea in his stomach, the hard crack of Henry’s bones under rubble echoing in his ears, Yolanda’s helmet pressed uncomfortably into his neck. Those eyes. It all washed out like a saline IV drip solution. Which was good, because he needed to get them the hell out of there. 

When they got out of the tunnels, he guided Yolanda into the backseat of his car next to Courtney, fastening her seatbelt when she didn’t make the move to do it herself. Beth climbed into the passenger seat, overwhelmed and traumatized. Nobody said anything during the ride. The girls probably couldn’t find the words. 

Rick just stared on at the road, ignoring Beth’s sniffling coming from his side, concentrating on getting them home. It was all he had the energy for. Really. He couldn’t handle anything else. 

He let the car stall before turning off the ignition once he drove up the hill to the driveway, running his hand through his hair. Beth asked him if he’d be at the Pit Stop the next morning when he pulled up in front of her big house, and he nodded because he didn’t have the heart to tell her no. He was half tempted to turn the car around and drive straight out of Nebraska. He couldn’t stand that asshole but now because of him, Rick wasn’t dead. The girls weren’t dead. He was used to life being ugly, but the way those dingy halls flashed in his memory, Brainwave’s gnawing apathy—

Rick wiped his own eyes and crept into the old house. He wasn’t sad like Courtney or distraught like Beth. And he had nothing to mourn for like Yolanda. It was just the weight of it all, closing in now in his head, waiting for him to trip into. It was a lot.

Exhausted, Rick shuffled past Uncle Matt’s couch beer coma to face plant into his unmade bed. 

He woke up too early the next day. He sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Over the sheets he pulled his knees to his chest with his back against the cracked wall, staring blankly at his ripped window curtain. A dull ache in his fingers tore him from his fuzzy haze, and he inspected his hands. Underneath the nails were discoloured and jaggedly splintered with curls of metal from the coating of that door. He hissed as he teased one out, not prepared for the way it brought back his own soft echo of that guttural animal-like scream. His heart slammed against his ribcage, and his back stiffened. He was paralyzed by the image of that dial-seal creaking under the strain of his yank. What was behind it. What it sounded like. What it was. What it _did._

Rick forced it down before those eyes could haunt him again, swallowing the lump in his throat. 

It only took three seconds for Rick to decide he needed to get out of the house. He almost jumped out of bed like it would kill him if he didn’t, showering hastily and dumping his things in his schoolbag for school, piling them in his car to meet with Beth. The sun wasn’t even up yet, and there was still enough milk left in the fridge for Rick to scarf down a bowl of cereal dust. He sat on the porch outside on the steps and toyed with his phone. Before he knew it, he was scrolling through, reading his sparse conversation with Beth and typing out a new message. 

**Rick:** i know this is early but i’ll be at the garage soon. show up whenever

His phone buzzed in his hand, surprising him. 

**Beth:** I can be there in twenty minutes. 

**Rick:** why are you awake

**Beth:** why are you?

He stared at her message with a frown. Was she _sassing_ him? He gave her a vague reply, then got into his car. He felt uneasy along the drive to the Pit Stop, his shoulders coiled up with tension that seemed misplaced. 

Beth’s teal bicycle leaned against the garage door but she wasn’t around, so Rick hopped up on the uneven table inside and cracked open his father’s journal, working on the more complicated equations. He was surprised to realize his legend already decoded half the book. What he first glanced at as nonsensical symbols, were now making sense. The familiar mechanisms of patterned number sequences drilled into repetition. A molecular change here, or a puzzle there. It wasn’t that bad, actually. 

Rick shook his wrist. His pen was drying out. 

He could see how his father got into this. 

Beth came in from the back with a tray of hot drinks and a bag from the bakery across the street. Rick put his chemistry aside, helping her juggle the food, and peering at the soft croissants and apple turnovers. She got a lot. 

“Is this for me?” 

She nodded, taking one to eat in one of Pat’s old models. “I don’t know if you drink coffee or not so I got hot chocolates.”

Her thoughtfulness was kind of amusing. He picked up one and his stomach grumbled so he ripped into the apple turnover too. “Thanks,” he said after it was done because the food distracted him for a moment from some common manners like being grateful. He was grateful, the pastries were fantastic considering he was surviving off the crumbs of stale Froot Loops.

“Yolanda’s not coming,” she told him matter of factly, and her smile drooped. “She texted me to let you know she’s spending the morning at church.” 

“Ah,” he said, not really sure how else to respond, returning to the table. They fell into silence again.

  
  


~.~

Rick woke up with a panicked start, sweating with the breath knocked out of his lungs as he regained his bearings. It was pitch black but he knew he was at home. The fact did little to calm him. 

That monster was pounding against that fucking door, roaring and seething like a dinasour with rabies and now the sound wouldn’t get out of his head and his hourglass was sitting in his schoolbag, taunting him because there was nothing more Rick wanted to do than flip it over and wreck that thing apart.

But he couldn’t do that. Use his hour in the middle of the night? And what would he do? Storm down into the tunnels by himself to kill it?

He wanted to. _Or maybe he’d let it kill him._

He didn’t think he meant that. Not really. But sometimes he thought he did.

Rick’s vision, already dark from the shadows of his room, blurred, threatening to start a flood of compromised tears that would never end once started. He couldn’t handle hearing that wretched thing again, not even in his dreams. His pulse raced and his hands trembled like he was still the kid that cried for his mother’s lullabies. He’d been kidding himself, thinking he was okay. He went face to face with the thing that turned his life to hell. The monster that killed his parents and left him here alone with _Matt._ It was because of that inhumanly grotesque thing. That thing. That _thing._

There was no way he could sleep now.

God, he needed to talk to someone. He’d spent too long pretending he didn’t care enough to try to connect with people.

Yolanda was out of the question, even if she’d probably be the best to be the most honest with. She let him go a little too hard on her with her impossible faith system he couldn’t understand. He knew he had to work on that because it’s kind of shitty. But the point was she let him. Rick couldn’t do that though, not now when praying for Henry or whatever was the only thing getting her through this. 

And Courtney. Rick liked Courtney. But she’d reply with her usual California pep and just—no. 

That left only one other person. 

  
  
  
  


~.~

  
  


**Rick:** remember in middle school when we had to do powerpoints on our parents and i got detention because i refused to talk but nobody freakin tried asking the 12 year old why he was the only kid in school that didn’t want to do it 

**Rick:** i did the damn project. I wrote everything i knew about my mom and dad because i had that shit memorized

**Rick** : nobody would believe my mom wore blue sundresses and made homemade soup with my dead grandma’s recipe i’ll never eat again 

**Rick:** that she’s not a crackhead that abandoned me

**Rick:** she had a college degree in sciences because she was just as smart as my dad

**Rick:** and my dad was trying to teach me baseball and was promoted at his work the week before he got fucking slaughtered

**Rick:** what the hell was I supposed to do beth

**Rick:** i was homeschooled before that day and i never really stopped to think about why

**Rick:** obviously they were hiding from isa. they were hiding me from isa. i get that now.

**Rick:** but they were all i had.

**Rick:** i guess what I’m trying to say beth is that my parents used to be my best friends too


	2. Chapter 2

**Rick:** hey so does chuck have a personality?

**Beth:** He does!!! 

**Rick:** because you laugh when you talk to the goggles all the time. I knew there had to be more than some enhanced search engine

**Beth** : An enhanced search engine?? um NO! Chuck talks to me and asks me if I’m okay and reminds me when I forget things and he’s got a very snarky sense of humour sometimes, it really surprises me. I know he’s old but he loves to joke and he’ll tell me fun facts about strangers I pass by on the street. He’ll tell me what’s trending on Instagram and we even do karaoke in the mornings.

**Beth:** I never had anyone who could hold in a yawn or an eyeroll when I spoke and now I have someone that actively listens. 

**Beth:** I know that was a lot but it’s true. It’s not just a costume or a computer. He means so much to me. He could’ve worked for anyone but he didn’t want to. When he read my information, he chose me. Like how the Staff picked Court. He think I’m special. We’re friends.

**Rick:** yeah. i can see that

**Beth:** I’m sorry.

**Rick:** for what?

**Beth:** I don’t know. I feel like I said too much.

**Rick:** I asked you the question Beth. Chuck sounds really cool.

**Beth:** So why did you ask me that now?

Beth sat with her legs crossed over her bed in her pyjamas, her lampshade casting a yellowed ambiance in her darkened room. She bit her lip, waiting for Rick’s reply on her phone. Ever since the first time he sent a string of worrying texts in the middle of the night when she was sleeping, she stopped turning off her ringer before bed. Of course, the temptation to pick up her phone the moment it dinged when she was supposed to be sleeping was compulsive now. It came naturally with the excitement of finally having people to light up her phone with notifications. But Rick really seemed to putting an effort to talk to her. Going as far as talking about what was deeply troubling him. And she knew there was something _troubling_ him. It was in his never ending thought-like punctuation or the way he asked her questions he must’ve known no person on the planet would have an answer to. But whenever she tried to gently pry into what that was, he deflected, and they ended up going around in circles. 

Beth didn’t mind circles. If Chuck could handle hers then she could handle Rick’s. Besides. No, she didn’t know precisely what was going on with him at night, but she could make some decent half-guesses. 

And texting him at this time of night, waiting under her covers or over her bedsheet like tonight, answering his random questions as they come felt somewhat intimate. But she wasn’t sure. She never had someone to talk about anything and everything with like this. Beth had her group chats with Yolanda and Courtney, but half of them was Courtney talking about how cute she found Cameron. It wasn’t the same. 

Which lead to her wondering, why did he pick her to say this to? Out of all the JSA? 

Because she knew him first?

But maybe that wasn’t true at all. Maybe Rick was talking to all of them, and Beth was the only one who’d wake up at midnight or 3 AM to answer.

She tapped her fingers against her knee anxiously, once that got into her head. She switched out of the tab for Rick for the one she had for Courtney and Yolanda.

**Beth:** Does Rick text you guys in the middle of the night?

**Courtney:** no??

**Courtney:** why are you asking???

**Yolanda:** 👀

Beth was about to reply when she got another notification from Rick.

~.~

**Rick:** i thought you got along really well with your parents 

**Beth:** I did and I do. I know they love me. But they are tired of listening to me after 15 years of non stop blathering I suppose.

**Rick:** you don’t blather

**Beth:** yes I do. You told me in 8th grade. 

**Rick:** shit 

**Rick:** beth i think we have already established im a dumbass 

**Rick:** you don’t actually blather now that I’m listening

**Beth:** Thanks

**Beth:** And you didn’t answer my question.

**Rick:** it doesn’t matter. I’m not keeping you awake. You said you were waiting for your mom to come home from her night shift

**Beth:** I am and you’re not bothering me. You can text me anytime Rick.

**Rick:** okay

**Rick:** you’re lucky to have chuck  
  


~.~

Beth returned to her chat with the girls. Yolanda has left a string of eye emojis while Courtney asked more questions. 

She sighed after waiting another five minutes without his reply. He was avoiding something, she was sure of it. 

**Beth:** No reason. Nevermind. I think it’s private.

~.~

**Beth:** It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. But if we’re going to talk about being dumb, let’s talk about what happened down in the tunnels.

 **Rick:** you thought Henry was dumb? Beth.

 **Beth:** No.

 **Beth:** Not Henry. 

**Beth:** You. 

**Beth:** I mean that room. The cage. Grundy. What would’ve happened if you opened it. 

**Rick:** I was going to kill it.

 **Beth:** What if you couldn’t?

 **Rick:** i can

 **Beth:** You don’t know that for sure. 

**Rick:** It dies or I die with it. I’ve thought it through Beth, trust me.

 **Beth:** no you haven’t 

**Beth:** because when you were there, pulling that cage open. I was there. I was scared. And you weren’t listening to me. 

**Beth:** because maybe you’re fine with getting killed by Grundy.

 **Rick:** but I can kill it Beth.

 **Beth:** Rick. I don’t care. Just listen to me this once. If he got freed that day? And you couldn’t fight him? I would’ve died too.

 **Beth:** I was in there too.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Trigger warning for graphic violence and death?

  
  
  
  


Red blood and black gunk splattered from Grundy as Rick slammed its head against the pavement, hard enough to knock out teeth.

_“That’s for my mom!”_

Rick panted between each word. His voice cracked at awkward vowels, struggling with the wind easily knocked out of his broken ribs’ lungs, but he persisted because he had to. This wasn’t even enough. The way he was attacking him wasn’t brutal _enough._ Wild, desperate, time was ticking fast, this needed to happen now or Rick wasn’t going to make it out of here alive. He dug his fingers into its scalp, fisting into its hair, and smashed its huge head against the ground again, while it groaned, finally immobilized. 

“ _And that’s for killing my dad!”_

Rick could not afford to lose this fight. Kill or be killed. The revenge that defined his purpose for taking on the hourglass. It had to be now. If this horrifically ugly, bloodthirsty vile monster of death didn’t die right now by _Rick’s_ own hands, Rick was going to lose his damn mind. 

Hourman kneeled over its neck before it could shift or raise a hand to cover its face. Twice now, he lost his grip and got himself flung against the wall, cement and rock crumbling with his limp body as he crashed to the ground. His cheeks scraped against the sharp edges and grit and his mouth tasted bitter like copper, but every time Rick blinked back the tears from his fit of rage and forced himself up again. Because that thing still lived. Still stood. Still _existed._ This would be the last time. The very last time. 

_“You animal! You ruined my fucking life!”_

It screamed at him. Rick screamed back. The eyes that stared back at him seeped with hurt, afraid. _Good. It should be._ It only pissed him off more. As if this thing deserved Rick’s mercy? As if he were the murderer, the one inflicting the years of pain. Rick knew how mind games worked. He would not entertain one second of it. 

His knuckles were battered and bruised, but his strength and power ebbed over the ache and discomfort, that swarming insatiable urge to kill grew until every synapse in his brain shrieked at him to finish the deed and end him. God, he wanted to physically rip its skull apart until its mess of a brain was in a puddle. 

His Hourman cape flapped against a giant boulder. Rick let himself get punched in the gut in the spare moment he turned his head to lift it over the monster. He had been waiting for this moment his entire life. 

And just like that, with a sickening, wonderful sounding crack—It was over. Rick raised his bloodied hands from Solomon Grundy’s dead body. He heaved as he stood up, towering over the goliath monster and spat in its disfigured face. 

He did it. Rick killed Grundy. A smile broke out on his face as he swiped at his eyes, wiping away the accumulating tears with the fabric of his sleeve. His breathing came quicker than ever as he choked on a sob. Why was he fucking crying? The creature was dead. But it was something he’d wanted to do since its equally horrifying 3D image flickered in green in front of his eyes. Since Beth told them the crash and that tree— 

Beth. 

Everything had drowned out the moment he had set his eyes on Grundy. He didn’t know what was happening with STRIPE or the ISA or _anything._

“Beth?” Rick pressed against his suit’s communication piece. Static from the radio screeched in his ear. “Guys?” 

The sand at the base of his neck trickled to a near stop, with only minutes left on the hour, they’d still need him to get out of the tunnels alive. “Stargirl? Yolanda?” 

Rick turned around, feeling his pulse in his throat when he saw the helmet laying on the ground. 

Wildcat’s helmet. 

“Yolanda?” he tried again, panicked. _“Pat?”_

And there was Courtney’s staff, thrown away to the side like garbage.

He went around the corner and stopped abruptly at the line of bodies in the hall ahead of him. 

Pat outside of STRIPE. Dead. 

Courtney. Dead. 

Yolanda— 

Rick dropped to his knees, cradling Wildcat’s face. _“Yolanda?”_

He shook her harder than he ever did with Grundy, desperate for her eyes to move from their upward glassy stare at the ceiling. For her to stop pretending to be dead and look back at him and give him answers he didn’t want to hear. 

But Yolanda didn’t need to be alive to do that. 

Rick pressed the comms again, distressed at the sticky silence. She was supposed to always answer him. She was supposed to be safer outside. She was supposed to be, when shit hit the fan, the one that always told them what to do. The new JSA wasn’t supposed to die like this. 

_“Beth?!”_

His vision swam until it blurred. 

His communication piece came back to life. His heart skipped a beat. “Beth—” 

_“Looks like our little distraction kept you occupied,"_ The Gambler's voice crept in. " _Too bad you didn’t notice your little friends crying for your help. Oh, and I got the other one too. Beth, was it? Yeah, she’s expired.”_

“Kill me too then!” Rick pleaded, banging his fist against the wall with the little strength he had left. “Just take me! I don’t care!” 

_“Aw, that’s no fun, is it?”_ The Gambler’s tsked with a low chuckle. _“Nah, we want you alive, boy. It’s what we always do. Leave one to remember. The first time was that Stripesy of yours. Today it’s gonna be you. Now pack up and leave Blue Valley before we change our minds.”_

  
  


The entire JSA. Gone. Rick stripped his golden cape off his back. Shredding it to pieces until it was tattered and stained and ugly and _worthless_. His voice, his _screams_ , carried alone in the tunnels, with nobody to hear him. Nobody to care. 

Rick dropped to his knees in front of Courtney and threw her quiet staff at the wall. It clattered, lifeless like his friends. 

_Please_ , _don’t leave me._

~.~

The cold sweat that dripped down Rick’s back gave him chills. His uncle was snoring across the hall, but it barely registered. The monster’s growl was louder, trapped on the loop in his ears. The metal clang of those bars rung until his head spun. The monster’s eyes, tattooed to his brain. Rick gritted his teeth and buried his head in his hands, shuddering through his terror. He still had to kill it. 

~.~

_3 Missed Calls from Rick Tyler_

**Beth:** Rick it’s very late. I can’t pick up without waking my parents.

**Beth:** But you woke me up so I’m here now if you need me to listen.

**Beth:** Rick? 

**Beth:** ???

**Beth:** You’re worrying me. I’m going to call Courtney 

**Rick:** don’t call Court

**Beth:** Hi. 

**Beth:** You were just texting the group chat not long ago, this is really late. 

**Rick:** they should’ve brought me with them

**Beth:** Rick you would’ve died in that car

**Rick:** i know

~.~

**Beth:** Well. I’m happy you weren’t. 

**Beth:** Because then you wouldn’t be here.

**Beth:** And I want you to be here.

**Beth:** Okay? 

**Rick:** sure 

**Beth:** I’m serious, Rick.

**Rick:** i know

~.~

**Rick:** you won’t be there when i rip that thing in half I promise you. im really sorry you felt so afraid when that happened. When I saw that thing something came over me and you were right I didn’t listen to you because I didn’t want to. 

**Rick:** i was so close. i just wanted it to end so bad i forgot there were other things that still mattered in my life

**Rick:** like you.

**Beth:** me?

**Rick:** i mean JSA. But courtney and yolanda, they never saw him or heard him like you did. they don’t know. i get it. especially with Chuck not working in the tunnels i realize you don’t want to go back down there again.

**Rick:** you won’t be there the next time I’ll keep you safe from him I promise. I’m not letting it happen twice

**Beth:** let what happen twice?

**Rick:** nothing.


End file.
